well ive been toroughly depressed of late, randomly whelling up with tears at the sight of anything red and/or freckled. yeah, its been bad. but this made me feel slightly better and i made it AU so fred could have an appearance.
disclaimer: i dont own fred and if i did i wouldve taken better care of him
It was a Friday night and he was 26 years old and sitting at home, alone, reading a book. He figured that he was the epitamy of the word 'pathetic'. In fact, he knew it. To make matters even worse the words on the page didn't mean anything to him. He was sure he had been reading the same paragraph for the past half hour and still couldn't recall one sentence of it. Truly pathetic--no doubt.
So with a groan the redhead swung his legs off the side of his bed, sitting on the edge he ran a hand through his wavy hair before making his way downstairs, ignoring the clock on the wall that clearly read 12:03. Heading towards the kitchen of Number 12, Grimwald Place he hoped to forget about that witch with a tub of chocolate icecream.
&&&&&
On the opposite wing of the depressed building, her stomach grumbled loudly for what could've been the hundredth time that hour. Yet she felt the need to torture herself and ignore the persistency of her hunger. As it was she was already suppressing one need, why not another? The four-months-shy of-21 year old had always been dreadfully stubborn that way.
Another loud noise filled the cavity of an empty stomach yet she refused to fill it. She was attempting to forget one pain through the battle of a tougher one. But she reminded herself the new hurt was hardly more painful than the old. With a groan of defeat as her stomach let out one of hunger, she made her way down to the kitchen of Number 12, Grimwald Place, ignoring the chime of the clock singing 'midnight' in hopes that submerging herself in chocolate would leave her heart more at ease.
&&&&&
As she left her dim room earlier, Katie Bell found the kitchen empty. A wave of relief washing over her at this, she padded to the refrigerator. Leaving the lights off she searching for a spoon by the one lone light bulb in the fridge before pulling our the chocolate ice cream. Shutting the small door, the kitchen once again pitched into darkness. Leaning against the counter the blonde was rather content with the solitude and the quietness of her stomach. It was nearly blissful with the cold cream melting in her mouth sensationally.
It was because of this momentary peace at heart that the sound of footsteps never quite fully reached her ears and the light of the fridge quite startled her.
"Who's there?" she called out into the darkness, dropping her spoon but not the ice cream (naturally) and pulling her wand out from it's spot, snug in the elastic of her boxer shorts (there was no other sensible spot for it and she wasn't likely to tuck it behind her ear) and pointing it towards the single bulb of light.
"Baby Bell?"
"Who's there?" she repeated more firmly.
"It's me, Baby Bell--Charlie."
Her heart sank and did a somersault at the same time. It was a rather disturbing feeling she noted as he flicked the lights of the kitchen on.
"What are you up to?" he asked, clad in blue-plaid pajama pants and a plain white tee shirt, bare feet and all. She wished he could've looked a little less dashing with messy hair as well.
"Ice cream," she said simply and holding up the tub, at once cursing herself mentally for such a ignoramus answer. Praying for something she wasn't quite sure of, she flicked her wand and watch as her spoon rinsed itself in the sink before finding it's way back into the ice cream tub. "Want some?" she asked, leaving her wand on the counter behind her and instead taking up the spoon.
He smiled congenially at her. "I might just take you up on that," he said, pulling his wand out from his pajama pants pocket as he took a spot on her right. Giving the mahogany piece a casual sweep, he took hold of the spoon that came floating out from the drawer. "Thanks Baby Bell," he murmured, taking a spoonful from the carton in her hand. "I needed this."
"Yeah?" she rhetorically asked, taking her own bite, "What about?"
"I'm not going to bore you."
"Bore me anyway."
He gave the girl he knew for most of her life a sideways smile, "Well, there's this witch-"
"So Charlie Weasley finally has some girl problems," she said with a jocular laugh, "It's about time," giving him a crooked smile at the look he gave her. "Well…continue."
He rolled his eyes as if to say he'd rather not. But she knew that was just bad acting on his part. "Well, she's quite the problem at the moment."
"A rebel hu?" she asked, taking some more ice cream.
"Not so much, but she's familiar with causing tiffs with no signs of ending such an engagement."
"Ah, stubborn?"
"As hell," he nodded, spooning out some more chocolate frozen goodness.
She gave him a crooked grin, "I like her already."
"She's got a knack for Quidditch too," he watched her grin appreciatively. "She's also bloody gorgeous-
"-Don't you dare give me the graphic details-" she interjected, pointing her spoon at him, but he continued on, ignoring her.
"-but that's not the best part. She's almost always happy and smiling about something. Isn't that something crazy?"
"Absolutely," she agreed, plastering a smile on her face although that was the last thing she felt like forming.
"But she's not girly-girl like Fleur, a tomboy streak in her, you know?" he continued, taking another bite. "She's bright, she's got this way with words-like she always knows what to say and everything she says makes me laugh."
"Well send her my way sometime, ok? I need someone perfect to rub off on me," the new Quibbler's new editor in chief replied rather monotonously, but he laughed lightly all the same.
"I wouldn't call it perfection," he mused. Taking another spoonful, "Just….fitting, maybe."
"So then Mr. Weasley," she pushed her bangs out of her face as she looked at him with keen green eyes, "Where's the problem?"
"I don't think she likes me," he admitted shyly after a moment of her green eyes bearing into him.
At this she laughed, which frightened him thoroughly, "Oh Charlie," she said with mirth, "If she didn't than she surely wouldn't 'fit' with you. So no worries then."
"I'm sure she likes me," he went on, "But I'm not sure if she likes me."
"Oh, likes you," she repeated, rolling the words over on her tongue, looking across the kitchen before her green eyes snapped back towards him, "Well I'm sure she must as long as you've been yourself. If she still didn't, that'd be something crazy to talk about."
He laughed as she used his words against him. "Thanks Baby Bell."
"Well that's what I'm here for, sorting out everyone's love life while mine wastes away with my cooking that no one seems to like," she said mockingly of which he laughed at again.
"I like your cooking," he rebutted.
"Yeah," she scoffed, "when it's still to hot to taste anything but burning."
He gave her a grin fondly, "But there's this other problem."
"Still?" she groaned, "Alright, out with it."
"I think I'm too old for her-"
"-Oh For the name of godric," she cried, turning on him rather quickly, "Why can't you people in this place drop that excuse already. I mean really, first Lupin, now you? Please. And you're only 26! The only way I'd be concerned was if she was ten years younger than you-which I hope she's not because I'd be rather disturbed of you chasing after a school girl…" she tried off, digging back into the ice cream.
"No need to be disturbed then," he muttered, his spoon careening with hers as he fished for more comfort food. "Sorry…" he said lowly, of which she shook her head slightly, silently saying 'don't think anything of it'
But then again that was his main problem. He over thought things. Maybe he should take her quiet statement and just stop thinking all together. But where would that lead him? For the past half hour he had said nothing but praise for her and yet he couldn't utter her name, not once. And she consoled him, convinced him things would work out, and if not, shame on her. She didn't even know she was 'her'. So didn't that say they should leave it at the long standing friendship they had held for the past 12 years? They were almost family. He reminded himself they could be family. But that only brought him back to square one of his problem and tried to dismiss the problem.
"So, what about you?" he asked, watching her dig into the ice cream with more malice than was surely needed.
"What about me?" she asked flatly, of which he knew was a sign of her smothered emotions.
"Any man problems?"
"Well at the moment it's only boy ones because all the ones in this place are running around with no spine." he grimaced at that last remark and she caught it in the corner of her eye. Immediately her expression softened, "Oh Charlie," she cooed, "I'm sorry, that was a low blow."
He looked away as if to agree. It was rather ridiculously low.
"Charlie," she sighed, running a hand through her hair, opening her mouth to say something yet lost the battle, but he ignore her, taking the ice cream out of her hand and shoveling more out. "C'mon," she said in a slight sing song voice, resting her head on his sloping shoulder, knowing full well the comment had put him off greatly. "I'm sorry."
He looked at her through a sideways glance, a bottle of emotions threatening to pop as she dramatically batted her eyelashes at him, giving him a wide eyed look, rather effectively despite the intentionally fallitical actions.
"You know sorry just doesn't cut it everytime Katie," he snapped. "You can't go around starting fights and expecting everyone to forget about it the second you decide you had made a misstep-"
"-But Charlie-"
"-it's constant!"
"-I know and I'm-"
"-sorry still doesn't cut it."
"Then what do you want me to say?" she pleaded as her heart ached painfully. Normally she went out of her way to avoid stubborn bickering as such with the certain redhead in front of her mainly because of the physical pain her body plagued her with. He gave her a cold look before exiting the kitchen royally and she grimaced as her heart screeched again.
As he reached the stairs, the swinging door of the kitchen now still and closed, he didn't hear her groan from the kitchen.
&&&&&
For the next week Fred Weasley watched in confusion the behavior between his older brother and best friend. And quite frankly, it befuddled him.
Charlie and Katie had always been close. Katie was the youngest of two, her older brother out of Hogwarts before she even stepped foot in the place, so, although they held a tight bond as brother and sister, they never were really friends. The two Bells didn't really mind, especially Katie who had a handful of Weasley boys to be her second, third four….all the way to sixth brother. Granted, Fred had somehow managed to be personally glued to Katie's hip for most of their lives and easily becoming best friends but Fred always knew, somehow always, that Charlie would always hold a dear spot next to her heart, for whatever the reason may be. Fred liked to tell himself that it was because Charlie had found Katie when she managed to get lost in a busy Diagon Alley.
So this new and strange behavior between the two was one of the oddest things he had ever seen. And he had seen quite a few odd things.
The two were no longer close and warm towards each other. Charlie no longer sat next to Katie at the dinner table, telling her the details of the tidbits of conversation that flew across the table. Katie avoided asking Charlie to pass the salt even when it was right in front of him. Fred was considering it a miracle now-a-days if the two even talked to each other. And even if they did on the very rare occasion it was only with the coldest and harshest of words.
"Pass the butter."
"I'm sorry, was that a command or a re-"
"-Oh it was quite the command."
Fred rolled his eyes. He knew such exchanges would indefinitely go on forever, Katie alone was as stubborn as hell on earth.
"Well isn't that nice."
"Well far nicer than you, buddy."
"Why thank you Queenie," Charlie scoffed, "Lemme go get that butter for you."
"Forget it. I don't want it anymore."
"Good."
"Good."
"Fine."
"Fine."
"Brilliant."
"I was just going to say the same."
"Well I'm just happy you didn't have to waste your precious breath."
"Touché," Katie observed coldly, "Why don't you try and be so quick witted with that witch of yours? Then maybe she would see you more than a dimwitted imbecile? Then maybe she would like you."
"Oh you're such a dumb bell."
"Oh ha-ha-ha," Katie mocked extravagantly, "Way to be original Weasel."
"Like that hasn't been said a million times before!"
Katie groaned in frustration, "WHY DON'T YOU JUST GO BACK TO ROMANIA ALREADY!?"
"I AM TOMORROW!"
"Well thank Godic," Katie sighed, pushing her chair away from the table and excusing herself from the other members of the Order.
As the door swung shut behind her golden blonde mane, all eyes turned to Charlie who merely stormed out as well. Once again at least eight pairs of eyes swiveled towards Fred, who through the whole fight was merely eating his diner in what peace he could find. "Don't look at me like that," he said, picking up his plate and going to eat in the parlor room, leaving as grandly as the previous two--grand exits was a secret pleasure of his, right next to grand entrances-- hopefully there was more peace to be found there.
Hell, it wasn't like he had any idea what sort of rift came between the pair, but he always knew Katie had a truthful, albeit loud, mouth and he had always figured Charlie wouldn't be any good at doing the deed. Fred merely stringed the two thoughts together along with the fact that they had been almost inseparatably close and came up with an all too scandalously vivid nighttime tousle.
He quickly pushed the thought back out of his mind. Such things were not conducive to good health and keeping a meal down.
However, once he had finished his meal he decided some healing must be done. He, of all people knew, he'd wind up being Katie's shoulder-to-cry-on once Charlie left the next morning seeing as Katie hated unresolved fights and strained goodbyes. So, with his plate and scraps left in the parlor room, he climbed the many stairs of Number 12, Grimwald Place and headed towards the room of Charles Theodore Weasley.
"She'll let you leave tomorrow," he said simply, walking through the door and into his older brother's room without a knock or any other pre-warning.
"Yes, yes you can come in," his brother said acerbically, sending the twin a cold glare.
"Why thank you," Fred said, mock pompous voice with an air of superiority and all, "But you know she will."
"Yes I know," he snapped back.
"So you're just going to sit here and let her let you go without one of you professing your undying love for the other?"
"Yes I intend to and-" Charlie stopped short, dropping the shirt he has been packing away for Romania the next day. "What exactly are you talking about? Undying love." he added with an almighty scoff.
"Oh please Charles," Fred smirked, "Don't play coy with me." Charlie sent him a look, once again, continuing to pack. "She loves you, you know." he said softly.
"Well she has a funny way of showing it," the older of the two muttered.
"Well that's Katherine Ann Bell for you," Fred sighed with a shrug of his shoulders. "Quick as a whip and dull as a rock all in one. I don't envy you."
"What do you mean?"
"I'm not going to be the one married to her and making babies wi-"
"Will you stop?" Charlie snapped rather embarrassedly. The tall tale signs of red Weasley ears had yet to fail.
"You do love her though," Fred stated at which Charlie only heaved his shoulder with a sigh, his back still turned to the younger brother in the act of packing.
"I've got to finish up," the keeper said after a moment, softly. "So if you don't mind…."
"Oh, I completely do," Fred said, but slipped halfway out the door anyway. "But if you're not going to be the one to make a self declaration I've got to make Katie to shout one before you leave tomorrow."
&&&&&
"Kates?"
"GO AWAY!"
Fred sighed from outside her door, knocking loudly once again, "either let me in or I'll hex your door off."
He smirked to himself as he heard her quick footsteps but quickly morphed it into a friendly grin as she swung the door open, "You wouldn't," she glared lowly at him.
"Oh I daresay I would," he said, sidestepping his angry friend and twirling his wand in his long fingers, "I rather like this thing and the fabulous tricks it can perform."
"Now if you only put it to good use."
He gave her a sideways glance but quickly dismissed it. "Anyway, I'm here on an important mission-"
"I'm not professing my undying love for that Charles Theodore Weasley."
Fred promptly shut his mouth, "he told you of my plans?"
"No," she said, fishing out of her pocket a fleshy looking string, "you did."
"I've taught you too well my dear," he said, making a snatch for the Extentable Ears, but failed against her chaser reflects which she managed to hold onto all those years. "No matter. But you have to."
"And why is that?" she asked. Fred noted she looked rather smug knowing she had full control over the conversation.
Fred sighed mightily. "Because if you don't and he doesn't that means I have to deal with a perpetually PMSing Katherine Ann Bell until he returns for Christmas. And I can hardly handle a PMSing you a few days out of the month let alone all the time."
He knew she was suppressing a dire need to slap him. He was glad she had such self-will at times.
She opened her mouth to say something, but closed it, her brow furrowed. She opened it once again but failed for the third time in the past week to conjure up the right words. Her brow furrowed even deeper-flabbergasted at her apparent loss of words, she always had a knack for finding the right words.
He waited patiently as she thought for a moment, scowling at the rug, then the ceiling, then her dresser, to her striped socks, to her bed, once again to the floor and finally at him. "So you want me--me--to completely put myself out there for your sake so you don't have to deal with a grumpy me?"
"Well when you put it like that…." he trailed off before catching sight of her full force glare--fists on hips and all. "Yes. And I think it'd be good for you."
"Will you get out now?"
"Will you make a self declaration before 6.am tomorrow morning when Charlie leaves?"
"You know," she said all too slyly for his liking, twirling her wand in her own fingers, "I rather like this thing and the fabulous tricks it can perform."
"What are you talking about?……oh. Right," he said, rather convinced by her silent yet no doubt deadly threat. "Cheerio then," he grinned with a wave before zipping out.
&&&&&
They each specifically got up at 5.30 am the next morning. He to do one last sweep of his room. Her to make one last stand against her stubborn tendencies. They both lost.
Charlie forgot his brush and Katie didn't make it down stairs until 6.05 and by then it was simply too late. She stood in the entrance way in her pajamas--the same ones on the night of the ice cream escapade as she called it-- leaning next to Mrs. Black's curtains and scowling at the door. It wasn't until 6.20 that she made her way back upstairs with a heavy stalk. But instead of heading towards the opposite wing of her bed room.
Stumbling into Charlie's surrogate room, already shaking with tears, she tripped over her own feet twice, gave in and let herself fall across his bed. And as sobs require deep breaths, she only cried harder as his familiar scent filled her nose. Pure torture.
If she was lucky enough to play her cards right she might be able to linger in the familiar smell at Christmas. Maybe.
She buried her head into the cover and mattress, tears rimming her eyes effectively. She knew she had terrible luck and her speech abilities had been failing her of late. And then there was that other witch. How unfortunate.
At this Katie snapped her head back up and glared into the mirror hanging over the dresser against the opposite wall. What did that other girl have that she didn't? So she sounded absolutely wonderful for Charlie, but so what? Katie had known the man for more than half her life. She had rights. First dibs. She automatically shoty-d him. Did that witch no nothing of the way things worked around here? Obviously not.
With the stubborn tendencies setting back in Katie pushed herself off her most fond redhead's bed and strode over in front of the mirror with deliberate steps. Seeing the brush she started vigorously taming hers. However it was to no avail and her bed head held strong. As she fought with a rather mean knot she was terrifiably aware of salty discharge crawling down her face. Sinking to the floor she ignored the rug burn clawing at her failing knees, however still fighting the knot in her tresses.
"You need a hand?"
Katie's red-rimmed green eyes snapped upwards and told a lie to her brain, trying to spin that Charlie was indeed standing above her with his usual congenial smile.
"I thought you were in Romania," she said rather pathetically. At this fourth failure of words she prayed her eyes--or even perhaps Fred--were playing a terrible trick on her.
"Well, yeah, I am," he said, placing his rucksack at his feet. "And I mean, well, I'm still going, but-um…I, well, you see…" she stared up at him blankly. "I, er, well, you can see….forgot my brush."
"Oh," she said, staring at the wooden apparatus in her hand. "You can't go anywhere without that then, hu?"
"I suppose so," he mumbled, now looking pointedly at the carpet underneath his booted feet.
"Well, um," she stuttered as well, cursing herself as she got to her feet. Once at her preferred height of five foot seven she looked once again at thing in her hand silently.
As Charlie was rather interested in his booted toes he didn't see her brow furrow in resolution. He didn't see her snap the handle off but only saw the aftermath after he looked up after an unmistakable snap of wood.
"Katie what are you doing?" he asked, looking from her to the broken brush in her hands and back, annoyance still lingering in his attitude after the past week or so. "Why would you ever-?"
"Now you can't go."
"What?" he asked, not because he didn't hear her, she never had trouble with volume, but because of the ludicrousy of her claim. "You think because you broke my brush I'm not….." he trailed off, finally finding her trail of thought. "For the name of Godric Katie-"
"Please don't go," she pleaded. "please don't leave me here in this depressing place with the only thing to look forward is maybe you acknowledging me with more than a scoff. Please stay here. Please don't run off with that tramp of a witch and go fall ga-ga for her. Pl-"
"But I already have."
The words hung in the air. Katie staring at him, willing the stinging behind her eyes to settle down and Charlie just realizing the meaning of his last speaking action.
"Oh, well," Katie shrugged her shoulders, looking at the broken brush in her hands, "I can fix this. And then, I guess, you'll be on your merry way." she gave him a quick and forced grin, attempting to sidestep him on her way out in search of her wand and any dignity she might have hidden away somewhere.
But once again she failed in the attempt and Charlie caught her elbow and gently pulled her back. "Katie wait."
"I said I'd fix it," she said earnestly. "Give me a minute--I'll bring it back"
"Katie no-thanks but no," he grinned, pushing her bed head away from her face, "look, I, there is no mystery witch." He had privately hoped she would've caught on by now, but to no avail. She continued to stare up at him and he held onto to her elbows. "It's sort of like this, you know her-"
"-are you trying to pour salt in the wounds?" she groaned, "A little lemon in the paper cut? I am trying to be slightly happy for you, you know."
"Baby Bell let me finish," he said pleasantly enough before bowing his head down next to hers. "You know for someone who's as quick as a whip you can be as dull as a rock." She furrowed her brow and opened her mouth to protest but he continued on before she could, at which she looked at her striped socks "I was talking about you."
"Oh," she said, smiling down at her feet as the pressure of his forehead against hers nearly made her quiver. She looked up at him, "So you think I'm gorgeous then?" she asked coyly, snaking her arms around his neck and her grin broadening as she caught sight of his ears turning a violent shade of red.
"Bloody," he corrected, his hands moving from her elbows to her waist cautiously as she tilted her head back and caught his mouth in hers without any further coy banter.
Yeah, I was in a writing slump and my dear ash told me just to write through it. That it would make me feel better. But yeah, charlies a nice antidote but I was like near tears writing fred.
and thats all im going to say here cause by no doubt ive gotten up one rant with onl more to come
...fred still rocks my socks in a major way...
lots o love...